


Walkin' My Baby Back Home

by moon_crater



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alcohol, Established Relationship, F/F, Flirting, Oral Sex, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 04:22:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11775423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_crater/pseuds/moon_crater
Summary: The thrill of victory! The agony of defeat! The intoxication of...intoxication! Date night’s got it all.





	Walkin' My Baby Back Home

**Author's Note:**

> For [the new Fallout Kink Meme](http://newfalloutkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org). (Now safe and sound on Dreamwidth!) Written for the one word prompt: "Lost."
> 
>  **Advisories** : Alcohol use, impaired consent (these two have been drinking themselves silly)

The tunnels leading away from the Thorn are empty, thank god. Nobody is around to see them stumbling into each other on the race toward the exit to Westside, taking breaks to get handsy between whoops.

Cass reaches the ladder first, grabs a rung and swings around; Veronica bumps into her. Another cascade of giggles. Cass clutches Veronica’s robe in her fist, tight enough to leave wrinkles, and lets go.

“Fifteen _hundred_ caps!” she stage-whispers, then takes her hat off and waves it around like she’s fanning flames around her face.

Veronica puts a finger to her lips. With mischief in her eyes, she shimmies; the currency tinkles somewhere under her clothes. Cass hoots and hollers. Mounts the ladder.

Cold metal. Crisp air. Starlight and blue neon glow. Cass hardly sways at all when she puts her feet on solid ground. She’s drunk, but she’s not _that_ drunk.

Veronica pops up behind her, climbs out of the manhole on her hands and knees. She slips sideways and rolls onto her back, still giggling. She’s got less booze in her than Cass, but she’s no more sober. They’re both full of whiskey and triumph.

“She’s going to ban us,” Veronica says, but she doesn’t sound like she cares very much about that. Red Lucy can ply them with drinks all she wants, but they’re never dumb enough to bet their winnings. If her pout tonight when they ran off means anything, that game is wearing thin.

“But until she does!” Cass reaches over, jiggles Veronica’s stash of caps along with some of the anatomy under it. “Music to my ears!”

Veronica swats her away playfully. A kiss follows, but they’re grinning too hard to do it properly. It’s a clumsy mess of teeth and lips and chortling.

Cass snatches her hand in the dark, tugs. They find their feet, tripping toward the entrance to the Strip.

They don’t get that far. Cass takes a detour down an alleyway, or close enough to it that the semantics don’t matter. She pushes Veronica up against the bricks of the closest building with her eyes glittering and sly in the dark.

“Here?” It comes out on a gasp when Cass’s lips latch onto her throat.

“Here.” With frantic motion Cass rucks up handfuls of fabric, searching for Veronica under all that burlap.

“I’m shocked. This is me, right now, shocked. Are you seeing this? Shocked,” she breathes, all the words coming out in one long rush. She makes a grab at the shoulders in front of her while the sack of caps, tucked away safe in a secret pocket, clinks and clacks in the darkness. Veronica’s muscles twitch when Cass’s fingers find her ribs beneath it, her stomach. She can’t keep a squeak from escaping.

“Ticklish?” Cass asks, biting her lip mischievously, knowing full well what the answer is. She circles Veronica’s navel with a fingertip.

Giggles bubble out of her, breathless and debauched. “Do you mind? I’m _trying_ to take advantage of you here.”

Cass puts a bent knee between Veronica’s thighs, parting them wide enough for access. “Well, try harder.”

When a hand dips below the waistband of her pants, Veronica presses her lips together to keep sound from escaping. The material falls, cool air takes its place. After that, dropping to her knees on the cracked concrete and sand, Cass follows.

She wraps her arms around Veronica’s thighs, uses the wall for balance, and hitches them up over her shoulders. Her hat gets lost in the shuffle, forgotten in the dust somewhere, straw probably fraying. Well, who cares, anyway? There are more important things than hats.

Cass slips two fingers between Veronica’s folds to spread her open. It’s no surprise she finds her wet and wanting. Her tongue flattens out, sweeps up, circles, dives in. She devours Veronica’s cunt, sloppy, hot and fast, without care for mess or air or foreplay. The fighting in the Thorn—whether winning or losing—is all the warm-up they need right now. It’s all the they ever need on nights like this.

Suspended, feet off the ground, spine pressing into the bricks, Veronica’s head falls back. She quivers under Cass’s mouth, slams a fist down against the building. Her other hand finds Cass’s head, her hair; it tangles there and undoes the braid with its grasping and clutching and writhing.

“Please,” Veronica manages to beg between huffs and puffs and guttural moans.

With a smile trying to blossom on her occupied lips, Cass obliges.

* * *

The sun is busting up the dark by the time they head back to the Lucky 38. Fingers entwined, Veronica’s arm wrapped around Cass’s shoulder, they stroll along like any pre-war couple in love. A bit unevenly, leaving a path of zigzag footprints, but they stroll.

“...three centaurs and a behemoth,” Veronica says, counting on her free fingers. “That makes sixty-three kills for me, sixty-one for you. Total.”

Cass sniffs and does a good impression of being offended by that news. “I’ll beat you next week. You got lucky on the behemoth.”

“Oooh,” Veronica coos, “and what’s the bet next week?”

Cass scratches the side of her neck and cuts her eyes to Veronica. “Know that fountain in front of the Ultra Luxe?”

“Yeah?”

“ _Someone_ —now, mind, I’m not naming names—might have gotten a copy of the Securitron and NCR patrol schedules.” Her gaze returns to the road.

Veronica pokes her in the side. “And does this ‘someone’ happen to know the pillar in the middle is just big enough to stand behind without being seen?”

“They might at that.”

Veronica _hmmmms_ thoughtfully. “You’re on.”


End file.
